


The Black Heretic

by darklinakanej



Category: Shadow and Bone (TV), The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Aleksander Morozova - Freeform, Alina Starkov is Still a Sun Summoner, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baghra - Freeform, Book 1: King of Scars Spoilers, Dark Alina Starkov, Darklina - Freeform, Darklina endgame, DarklinaAU, F/M, Post-Book 3: Ruin and Rising, Takes place in King of Scars, The Darkling - Freeform, Time Travel, alina gets her powers back, alina starkov - Freeform, grisha - Freeform, nikolai lantsov - Freeform, the Sun Summoner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:07:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28894140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darklinakanej/pseuds/darklinakanej
Summary: It had been three years since Alina lost her powers and the one person who had ever understood her. When Nikolai and Zoya go missing in the fold, Alina sneaks away from Keramzin hoping to find them. Instead, she gets sent back to a time preceding the creation of the Undersea. There she meets a young Aleksander Morozova just as he's rising to power as The Black Heretic. Once again the Sun Summoner, she is to do everything in her power to stop him before he is truly irredeemable, but can she really kill him? Does she even want to?Inspired by a twitter prompt I don't know how to write be nice to me :)
Relationships: Baghra & The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova, Darklina, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 33





	The Black Heretic

The night sky was full of clouds, blocking out the light from the moon. Standing on the old docks of Kribirsk, it was so dark the shadow fold almost looked as it had three years ago. When the Volcra preyed on man and the land's blackness was so vast, it couldn't ever be called anything but unnatural. The Unsea had once laid bare the entire truth of the Darklings stained soul. Now it was just an empty expanse of dead earth and a reminder of his failed ambitions. 

What the hell did Nikolai get himself into this time? Alina wondered with half heartened annoyance and a great deal of worry. It seemed as though the too-clever fox had finally landed himself into a hunter's snare. 

Though she was no longer Grisha, her old friends made it a habit to keep her in the loop as best they could. A small consolation prize for everything she had done in the war. Apparently, The King, TheStorm Witch, and a boy named Yuri had traveled into the fold only to get swallowed up by sand. The triumvirate (or what remained without Zoya) had no idea where they went. All they did know was that the three of them disappeared in the very spot that The Darklings' lifeblood had met the earth three years ago. 

Not a single soul knew she was here. Two moons before, she had snuck out of Keramzin in the dead of night and taken passage on a trading Wagon headed for Novokribirsk. Mal had wanted a life of anonymity for the both of them, an idea that didn't include casual trips to the fold in hopes of saving Nikolai and Zoya's sorry asses. So, she had done so without telling him. To everyone's knowledge, The Sol Koroleva had died on the last day of the war, and Alina wanted to keep it that way. But if her friends had indeed vanished in the place where her blade had met The Darklings heart, it had to be connected to her somehow, power or no. "Like calls to like" and she had just as many ties to this monstrous place as he did.

The air seemed to buzz with the barest remnants of wild power, one that she recognized by heart. Odd, that even in death, his presence was a tangible thing. The first step off the docks sent a rush of familiar surety through her. In response, something she hadn't felt in years began to stir in her stomach, as if answering a call.

Impossible. Alina hadn't felt the Darklings' power reach out to her in years. But here on this sand, on his once most awful and great creation, she could almost feel him again. More than that, she felt a trace of herself, of Sankta Alina, the first Sun Summoner.

"Aleksander?" she breathed into the wind, barely loud enough for her ears to detect. They were the same words she had whispered that day when The Darkling rode into the fold with his Grisha and glass skiffs. The words whispered under a blue sky and once more around a burning Pyre. The name of a boy, once given up but not lost. Never to her. 

No, she couldn't let herself think like that. She had killed him with Grisha steel and the blood of a Morozova. He was gone, so too were her powers. She knew this as surely as a piece of her soul had died with him, buried under bone-colored sand. To hope that things could be any different was a fool's wish. Still, that beautiful, melodic voice rang through her head; I seem to be a victim of my own wishes where you are concerned. Not a phrase that had come from her lips but true nonetheless. 

Alina ignored her thoughts, continuing deeper into the Unsea. She was here to find the King and Zoya, not lose her mind thinking of how things could be different. Though she didn't know where exactly everything had taken place, that familiar energy beckoned, singing to her blood—drawing her in. It illuminated an invisible path only she could see, and Alina followed it. With every step, the force and the feeling stirring inside her grew stronger until she began to run, chasing down that wonderful caress of power she had missed so dearly. 

When it felt like she might explode from it all, she stopped. It could've been a trick of the light, but the dead grey sand here seemed slightly darker, and were those shadows dancing on the ground? There was another presence here, a third one that wasn't the Darkling's or her own. It was one she had felt before, full of regret and sorrow, but she couldn't quite put together where she knew it from. 

Her breaths came in hard short pants; this was the place. She fell to her knees in the sand, searching for something, anything to help her friends.

"Nikolai," she yelled, "Zoya. I came all this way for you stupid bastards; the least you  
could do is help me out just a little." There were ancient powers at work here; she knew it in her bones. But it didn't offer her any solution, and the part of herself that was just now waking up again, felt trapped inside her, bursting to get out yet unable to. 

"My dear Alina."

Her head snapped up at that. That was the voice of a nightingale, and all the stars made flesh; she would know it anywhere. Aleksander. She searched wildly but saw nothing. It couldn't be him; he was supposed to be dead. She had mourned him; she still mourned him, and yet, his voice rang true.

"Come back to me."

The wind carried the sound; there was no physical being anywhere around. Still, she knew that somehow, he was here. 

"How is this possible?" She gasped, her face fair as her hair. What else could she say to him, the man who had looked at her with such pain at the end? He who had done such terrible things but who she could never hate, not truly. No matter what she told Mal every day after, she was bonded to The Darkling. Even in his death, she could not shake the memories of him, of their two powers balancing, dark and light, in beautiful opposition. We are alike, as no one else is, as no one else will ever be. There were too many words she couldn't, no, wouldn't say. 

Instead, she remembered what she was there for and choked out, "Zoya and Nikolai, where are they?" 

"Tsk Tsk, my Alina, not even a proper greeting? I expected more from the girl who killed my mortal body not two feet from where you stand. No matter, all will be made right soon enough; you'll see to it, I'm sure. I once told you we would have a forever; I intend to follow through on my promise. I am a man of my word after all."

Alina blanched further at that. She didn't know what to think. Did that mean he was coming back? Or was he somehow already back and sending dark wisps to deliver messages for him. What did this mean for Nikolai and Zoya, for all of Ravka even; what did this mean for her? 

A deep bellow snapped her thoughts away; it was The Darkling. He was yelling at something she couldn't see. Then she felt it, a bony thing, no a hand, pulling her into the sand. The Darklings' voice went muffled, then completely disappeared, no longer audible. No— not just sound, everything vanished from her senses. Alina had been engulfed by the ground into a place she couldn't even describe. It was just empty, completely devoid of all things. And there standing in front of her was that third energy she hadn’t been able to place earlier. Baghra. 

Alina jumped at the sight. "Baghra? Oh Saints, I thought you were dead. Is everyone coming back to life now?" This was all becoming too much for her to process. Was she dreaming?

"Quick girl, we don't have much time; you must go now," Baghra urged, taking her wrist and tugging her hurriedly through the expanse of nothingness. 

Alina dug her heels into whatever lay beneath her feet."Go where, What are you even talking about, and what is this place?” One look at Baghra’s lined face, filled with pleading, made her pause. Baghra looked exactly as she had that day when Alina fled the little palace for the first time at the woman's request. “Baghra don’t you dare, I— I can't do whatever it is you’re about to ask of me, I need to go back to the surface, or the real world, or just out of wherever this place is. I have friends to find, I have a whole life I need to return to. ” 

“Hmph,” Baghra whirled to face her. "You came here to save your friends, yes, but they must save themselves. Didn't you wonder why it felt like your powers were beginning to return here? It is because you are in a sacred spot. Here the Grisha are most connected to the making of the heart of the world, and it is here that the most powerful can do remarkable things. The saints, the people worship, are real, and they are woven into the world's very fabric. Elizaveta herself will try to bring back my son and she will succeed. If your friends don’t stop her, The Darkling will throw this world into ruin. There is nothing you can do for them now but in this place, my power is connected to the heart of everything, as am I. I can weave the threads and I can turn the clock, but I don't have a form, so you.. you must be the one to go back."

"Go back where?" Alina whispered suddenly, more afraid than she’d ever been in her life. She already knew the answer but couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

"Go back in time Alina.The natural order will grant you your powers again, I'm sure of it, but if your friends fail this world, you cannot. Do whatever you must to stop him at the root everything, kill him even, just promise me you’ll stop him before it’s too late."

“What about my friends,” What about Mal? Alina choked back a sob; already there was no way for her to say no. 

"They will be lost anyways if The Darkling returns, but should you succeed; your Grisha gift will let you live for ages. You will be able to see them all again if you choose to live that long. You can even find Morozova's amplifiers and break the cycle of an eternal life once more. You will get the chance to live an otkazat'sya life out with the boy, but first, you must do this, or all will be lost. 

Alina couldn't help the tears that started; if she refused, there would be nothing for her anyway but Mal, oh if she did this, she would not see him again for years. Hundreds, and hundreds of years. She hadn’t even said goodbye. To live for that long, Alina didn't know if she could bear it.

Baghra's voice turned pleading, “Alina, you failed me once, do not fail me again. He has always proven that my love was never enough for him but you… you might prove to be yet.”

Alina couldn't speak, couldn’t breathe. It was as if her throat had completely closed up. Alina wanted to go home, back to Mal and all the little kids. She did not want to have to be the savior of the world or a Saint again, all she wanted was to just be Alina. Still she managed to nod once in Baghra’s direction, signing over the warrants to her life. 

Good, Baghra barked, her eyes shining with relief and hollowness all the same. Physical proof of a life lived too long and too filled with despair. Is this what was waiting for Alina now? A forever of pain, waiting out the years until she could once again see everyone she loved. 

"Elizaveta will be upon us soon. You must go now," Baghra said softly "Please, just… just save my son; save everyone else you love in the process." 

The words had barely left Baghra’s lips before Alina felt her body shudder. The whole world flickered and warped around her. Her body squeezed in and out even as sobs began to rack her body. Baghra began to vanish from in front of her, a sad smile on her face. Before the world collapsed around her Alina whispered to the air, “Goodbye Mal.” Then everything went dark.

It could’ve been minutes or hours but then the dull brightness of the moon above was suddenly blinding. The Tula valley rolled all around, surrounded by prosperous farms. In the distance, Alina could see the winding Vy and a breeze rustled the nearby grass. She turned in a circle, sniffing in the sweet aroma of apples. Her head whipped back and forth, tears drying on her splotchy face. What had she done? All around her lay the land of the shadow fold, but it was still alive. This was the Unsea before it had become a place of living fear, before The Darkling had corrupted it with Merzost. It was the same world she had been born to and yet it was not. For Alina had traveled 400 years in the past, and this was not the country she had grown up in. No, this was the time of Alexander's most ruthless mistake. This was the time of The Black Heretic.


End file.
